Suffocation
by TheCriminalMindsSR
Summary: Sequel to Unfortunate. Reid continues to abuse heroin while he battles through extreme depression after the events of Unfortunate. (I would recommend reading Unfortunate first to get a better understanding of this story). Rated T for hard drug use, some moderate violence and strong language throughout.
1. A New Addiction

"No, fuck you Morgan!" Reid yelled down the phone, attempting to get his voice heard over the deafening post-hardcore music that echoed from the walls of his unkempt apartment; "what kind of music am I listenening to? Well, it's better than the sound of your annoying voice! Leave me alone I don't want your fucking help."

Ever since Gideon had left Reid to deal with his newly formed heroin addiction alone, he only spiraled downwards. Classical music ceased of to have any kind of meaning when he listened to it - he found alternative metal and post-hardcore had much more relatable lyrics. Heroin was now the number one drug, dilaudid was used the odd time but heroin Reid liked more, longer highs was the main reason; add on to the fact that Reid didn't care or feel any shame with his drug abuse - he didn't even care to think that one day he might die of an overdose.

It had been thirty seven days since Gideon walked out, Reid had been counting. Thirty seven days since Gideon portrayed his lack of interest in Reid's physical and mental wellbeing. The main reason Reid was acting out was because he actually hoped that Gideon would find him dead, he wanted Gideon to know that it was his fault.

Beneath it all Reid was a wreck. He considered himself depressed beyond anyone's standards, some days he just wanted to end it all. To end his life. He hated every member of the BAU - they tried so desperately to change his ways, to help him overcome his addiction like he did himself. Just before it started all over again. Most days he would spend the vast majority of the day shooting up with heroin, plus now he was getting more money to fund the expenses his habit brought.

Although he was pretty much a full time junkie, a popular psychology magazine paid him enough money a week to pay the rent and buy more drugs. The BAU would never allow Reid back, no matter how much they wanted him he was gone - a lost soul - the old him was gone and would never return, so Reid wrote a weekly article for the magazine and got paid just enough. Whenever he was short on money he would rent the spare bedroom for a week or so.

And this was one of those times that he had no other choice than rent the spare bedroom to a complete moron.

Her name was Candice, 'she had also brought along her also extremely moronic boyfriend. Oh, and a rat dog - um, I mean chihuahua'. Reid thought, getting more frustrated even thinking about them.

"Turn that music down and put on some real music!" She yelled while running up to Spencer with her high maintenance dog in one arm.

"Get out of my room," he sighed.

"This is real music," Candice said while finding some rap-not-so-much song on.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Lil' Wayne - I love him so much_"

"Get away from my speaker and stay out of my room." Spencer threatened.

"I'll get my boyfriend Doug on you if you threaten me like that again."

Reid raised one eyebrow, "well if you stay away from my room and keep that dog out of my way you won't have to." Reid did not want to raise alarms with Doug, the guy was about six foot seven and spent most of his time lifting weights at the gym.

Candice rushed out of Reid's room, he quickly turned the shit music off the radio and put the angsty lyrics back up - Break by Three Days Grace. It was times like this that he wished he was renting a room for one of the serial killers he helped put away. Their bone sawing and harsh decapitation would be less annoying than Candice and her dog.

It was that time of day again, well Reid found shooting up to be his favourite part of the day, a time when he could cut off all ties with the world - release himself.

Reid prepared his dose of heroin, most of the time he hated the heroin preparation - Dilaudid was much easier, but dilaudid was out of the picture.

He tied a leather belt around his arm to raise the pulsating vein, the right one was always the one that would allow a small drop of blood to fall when the needle went in; he slid the needle through and pulled the belt away, pushing down on the plunger - he used to worry about someone finding him with a syringe sticking out of his arm, he no longer cared - he left it there in case Gideon changed his mind and came back. But that was a wish - and wishes of course are for children.

_"What would your mother think Spencer?" JJ asked, "how would she react if she saw how pathetic you really are?"_

_Morgan scoffed; "just get on with it, overdose, die from it - nobody cares for you anymore."_

_"When you die, I'm going to not feed my dog - so he can eat your dead corpse, but that is stupid of me, he'd die of an overdose too!" Candice laughed uncontrollably._

"SPENCER!" JJ yelled, "he's out of it again Morgan."

"The next time I enter his apartment and I find him in this state I swear I will call the cops and have him arrested." Morgan was angry, mainly at Gideon - if he hadn't have left Reid while he was in the hospital for drug related reasons then Reid wouldn't be like that in the first place.

JJ huffed, "he's our friend Morgan, we can't just rat him out like that."

"No JJ, he needs to fucking learn that this will kill him one day, and when he dies he will leave his friends behind - imagine how distraught Diana would be if she found out that her only son had died, I think that she would be even more distraught when we tell her that it was an overdose! Yes JJ, we - because we will be the ones that have to inform her."

"He can get help_"

"We've offered him help so many times, he won't have it. Everything he does he feels has to be done independently, he wouldn't want to reside at some rehab clinic for weeks, that's like hell to him."

_Everything is blurred; I can't tell who's standing over me - but their voices are clear, JJ and Morgan, great, do I open my eyes fully or shut them again? Hopefully they might go away…_

"He just opened his eyes."

Morgan ran over to Reid, he started off by gently tapping him across the face, Reid remained incoherent. All until Morgan bashed Reid's head against the wall he was leaning on. "Wake up Reid!"

Reid fully opened his eyes to see Morgan and JJ becoming more frustrated the longer they stared at him, "what the fuck was that for!?" Reid cursed.

"Stop being like this Reid!" JJ shouted.

"You don't call me Reid anymore, I'm not in the FBI!"

Morgan sighed, "just enter rehab, we hate seeing you like this."

Still mad with the way Morgan dealt with him, Reid delivered a hard punch to Morgan in sincere annoyance, "you don't hit my head against a wall! I think I have a concussion."

"Do you have a statistic for that Reid?"

"Eighty five percent of people who received a concussion feel a headache, seventy to eighty percent suffer from dizziness. Need I go on?" Reid slurred, still 'coming down' from the high.

"If you assault me again_"

"That was not assault!"

JJ rolled her eyes, "stop being so immature, both of you! Reid we're gonna give you six months to get sober - if you continue to abuse ILLEGAL drugs we will have you arrested for the possession and consensual usage. It's your choice."

Reid scowled at JJ, "fuck you," were the harsh words that escaped.

"We'll see about that in six months, use them wisely." JJ threatened him, "come on Morgan."

* * *

"Candice, I told you to keep that damn dog away from me!" Reid shouted, the withdrawal symptoms were making him angry and intimidating.

Candice's boyfriend stormed through the apartment, barging past the relentlessly yapping dog; "stupid junkie bastard!" He insulted while aggressively grabbing Reid's arm - probably dislocating it in the process.

"If you ever speak to Candice like that again I'll make sure that you end up in a VERY long coma."

Reid yanked his arm out of the strong grasp, "get the hell away from me, and get rid of that fucking dog - it's giving me a headache."

"I'll get rid of you. Go and fucking get high or something, what you do best."

Despite his 'not caring' attitude, Reid was slightly hurt by the fact that people thought the only thing he was good for was shooting up with drugs; after all he was a genius but he was wasting it away...

...but that didn't stop him from repeating it.


	2. Chasing the Dragon

**Thanks for reviewing, following and favouriting; it means a lot.**

* * *

"What did you do that for?" Spencer Reid yelled, possibly the most furious he had been since Candice arrived.

"It didn't look important."

Reid raised his eyebrows in frustration, "the fucking deadline is tomorrow… TOMORROW. Why can't you just leave my stuff alone? Now I'll have to start all over again."

"At least I saved the table from coffee stains_"

"You spilt the fucking coffee, you could have at the very least got some tissue paper and cleaned it up - not with my article!"

Candice stared at the ruined article scrunched up on the table, "what am I supposed to say I'm sorry?"

"That doesn't cut it," Reid scoffed as he began to walk away, "I'm wasting time talking with you… just keep the hell away from me."

As soon as she saw Spencer leave the room she got out her phone and called Doug.

"Yeah, this is Doug_"

Candice put on a false cry as she whimpered down the phone, "he started yelling at me again Doug. Would you please come back to the apartment?"

Doug began to shout, "that lanky bastard yelled at you, what the fuck did he say?"

"He started blaming me for ruining his stupid article, as if he didn't hate me enough. He should make he handwriting neater, it looked scruffy and I thought it was just scrap paper."

"Stay there, I'll be back in literally one minute."

* * *

When Reid had first started to rent his apartment out, the paranoia the drugs brought him forced him to put a lock on his bedroom. He sat in his room writing the article out (again), the last time he got heroin he purchased ten bags - around 100mgs in one bag making 1000mgs (or 1 gram) in all ten. Reid usually uses up about 50mgs for one shot which he shoots up twice a day… meaning that he will get five days worth of shooting up twice a day, unless he was to cut halve the amount or cut down to one hit a day.

The thing he feared most (and what most long time heroin users suffer) was the extreme psychological dependence (what he already had) of which there was no high in each shot, just relief from the withdrawal pain. This was making him contemplate on using Dilaudid again (he felt the rush from Dilaudid much more intense and euphoric, but the high didn't last near as long as heroin did).

"Open the fucking door!" Doug said as he violently bashed on the door.

"Why? You have no right to enter!"

Doug rolled his eyes, "if you don't open the door I'll smash it open - there will be nothing left of it."

Due to the over exaggeration and stupidity portrayed in Doug's last sentence Reid felt obligated to outsmart him. "The door is wood… not glass, it won't smash and even if it did the residue wouldn't just disappear."

"Fucking smart ass, why should we have to pay MONEY to be verbally abused by you?"

"You don't have to stay here, I'm sure if I put the room up for rent again people would be interested." Reid sighed, "and that 'verbal abuse' you've accused me of isn't a scratch on the countless insults and threats I receive from you every day."

Doug violently kicked the door, "fuck you, fucking junkie."

Reid smiled when he realised that Doug had finally left him alone, the article could finally be finished and no amount of heroin was going to stop him from completing it; but that meant an uphill battle with ignoring the tremors and skull exploding headaches that only heroin could relieve.

* * *

Reid groaned when he heard the alarm clock piercing through his eardrums, harshly hitting the snooze button he took two minutes to acknowledge that he needed to get out of bed.

Reid actually looked at the time, 11:55, "shit." He muttered, unlocking the door and agitated to see Candice bathing her dog in the bathroom sink.

"It's about time you woke up," she said in a cheery voice. "The alarm clock's been going off for the past hour. It was giving me a headache."

"What the fuck? Why didn't you wake me up? I have to be there in like ten minutes."

"The door was locked_"

Reid's eyes widened, "you could have knocked on the fucking door."

"I didn't have time, I needed to give Fluffy a bath."

"Get out of the bathroom," Reid demanded while viciously pointing towards the door.

"No."

"The the fuck out of my apartment then!"

"I'll call Doug_"

"Call Doug, fucking call Doug. Let him beat me until I'm in a comatose state in the fucking hospital! Let him, make sure when he is really willing to 'kill' me he actually kills me, the one thing I hate in life is life itself." Reid admitted, "just let him kill me," he sighed; "I don't care anymore."

Candice looked at Reid in spiteful eyes, "the Doug threat is supposed to warn you off. You are not supposed to actually take it on."

Reid angrily clenched his fist, but realising that punching a wall or kicking a door wouldn't do him any good, he stormed over to the spare bedroom; beginning to empty Candice and Doug's belongings out of the window and onto the pavement outside.

"What are you doing?" She questioned while running after Reid, she stared in bewilderment when she realised that everything she owned was exposed outside.

"Get out." Reid ordered.

"No, you fucking junkie. We've paid you the rent for this week."

Reid pulled out his wallet, "you want your money back? Here it is," he snapped while throwing it at her.

"What? We pay you 119 dollars a week, this is only 85 dollars_"

Reid impatiently rolled his eyes, "I charge you seven dollars a day. You have stayed here two days since you paid the rent, 17 dollars a day, for two days makes 34 minus that from 119 you get 85."

Candice completely stared at Reid with hatred, she collected her dog and deliberately barged past Reid as she made her way out of the apartment.

He was relieved that they were gone. Reid felt that Candice was the most annoying person on the planet, but for the mood he was feeling the BAU members were far worse.

And now it was time. For weeks he had been contemplating it, the final decision was complete. Spencer Reid had made up his mind.

Reid turned the volume up so loud that he could barely hear himself think, he prepared the dosage. On a normal day he would shoot up with 50mgs, but he had come up with a decision to add on an extra 200mgs - a lethal dose.

He was getting sick of life, the only way to completely stop the infinite cycle of pain and misery enflicted on him was to end it all; in his eyes it looked more and more of a perfect ending as his thoughts of it recurred.

So there it was: the dose that would end it all. Reid's eye magnified through the syringe as he held it up in front of him, his life flashed past as he doubted his judgement of the situation. But it really would, it would end everything. Reid had nothing left to lose.

He tied the rubber tourniquet tightly around his arm, stopping the blood circulation and raising the vein; sliding the needle midway between his wrist and his elbow one small teardrop fell and rolled down the syringe...

...and with that he pulled away the tourniquet, slowly pushing down on the plunger...


	3. Left for Dead?

**Here's the third chapter, thanks for the reviews I have received for the previous two - I really appreciate them. :)**

**Have you guys seen the promo for the new CM episode, it looks intense. Reid gets seen being shot in the neck - I hope that he doesn't die, the show would suffer without him.**

* * *

"Reid," Garcia said softly as she knocked on the door of Reid's apartment. She hadn't checked on him for five days and it was beginning to worry her.

Morgan bashed on the door, "open up Reid! Stop being so fucking selfish, turn the music down and answer this god damn door before I kick it down."

"Something's not right." Garcia told Morgan, "the music is loud but Reid would just be able to hear us. Every time we've been to visit him after Gideon left he would yell, shout and curse for us to go away."

They both looked at each other, "I hope it's not what I'm thinking." Morgan told Garcia before throwing one kick to the apartment door.

"Fucking Reid and his heavily bolted door." Another kick sent it flying open, both Morgan and Garcia ran around the house in a desperate search for Reid.

"Oh god, Morgan call an ambulance!"

Garcia rushed over to Reid, whose body lay on the cold floor of his bedroom; morbidly surrounded by his own vomit, heroin equipment and the syringe still sticking out of his heavily punctured arm, tearing it out and throwing it across the room in disgust. She checked for a pulse in his neck. Extremely faint and slowing by the second.

"The ambulance will be five minutes_"

"Morgan he won't last that long! CPR would be effective in the short time, wouldn't it?" Garcia asked, desperate for an answer.

"I'll try."

Morgan gave Reid CPR, in an attempt to get his heart beating faster; Reid lay motionless, corpse like as his two friends tried to get his life back. A life that he didn't want at all.

"Morgan the ambulance is outside, is his pulse still going?"

Morgan stopped briefly to check Reid's slowly fading pulse, "it's getting worse."

"Carry on until the medics arrive!" Garcia yelled, "just please keep it going."

"Don't you think I'm trying to do that?"

The two paramedics raced through the door, one yanking Morgan away from Reid, another setting up the defibrillator.

"Will he make it?" Morgan questioned, not getting an answer or even expecting to receive one either; he watched in peril as they placed the electrodes on Reid's chest, one above the right hand side of his heart and the other below the left hand side.

"Clear."

The shock sent Reid in a sudden, violent jerk as the electricity surged through. But no improvement was made.

"Recharge."

"Clear."

Another sending him convulsing upwards, but still no major improvement.

"Recharge to 720."

The higher voltage made an improvement on Reid, but would he be grateful for it?

* * *

Three hours later...

"What happened?" Prentiss asked, shocked and confused - she knew that it was about Reid's drug addiction, but didn't know that it was deliberate... nobody did but Reid. For the time being anyway.

"Why is Reid in hospital?" JJ knew the answer, she was desperate to be told that it was an accident.

"Is he going to be okay?" Rossi asked, he had never met Reid but everything he had heard about him was good - everything before his ordeal with Tobias Hankel.

Garcia pushed her hair back with her hand, "he overdosed. The music was loud and me and Morgan thought he was being a jerk again, we realised that Reid would have told us to go away or yelled at us but we got no answer." Garcia paused to wipe a tear that had rolled down her face, "when we found him he was surrounded by his own vomit and there was a syringe still sticking out of his arm. I hated seeing him in that state." She cried, "I really hated it."

"What happened after that?" Hotch said, looking genuinely worried.

Garcia was practically choking on her tears, "I pulled the needle from his arm. His pulse was getting worse and worse so Morgan began to give him CPR until the paramedics arrived. They came and pulled Morgan away, they got out a defibrillator - it took three tries but the electric shocks got his heart rate up again and they took him to the ambulance."

Morgan shook his head in annoyance, "why is he doing this to us? Look at Garcia, she can't stop crying and it's all because he can't get help for his problems! He knows that it kills us to see him destroy himself but he continues to do it over and over again. One day he'll be on his own and we won't be there to help him, because we will be so fed up of attempting to get him better, to get him off drugs and he just repeats the cycle."

"Morgan we have to help him_"

"No JJ, we try time and time again and each time he does it again. He is practically the reason Gideon left!"

Hotch intervened, "Morgan has a point. When Reid is conscious he will force him into rehab whether he likes it or not, he is treating us all horribly and if he had a strand of decency then he would have stopped using by now."

A doctor strolled into the waiting room, "are you all here for Spencer Reid?"

"Yes we are." Hotch spoke up.

"He's awake, two at a time can visit him." He informed, the team could tell by his facial expressions that it wasn't good.

"Is he okay?" Garcia asked.

The doctor shook his head, "he had a potentially lethal dose of heroin in his system. He's very lucky to be alive - if you had found him five minutes later he would more than likely be dead."

"Was it deliberate?"

"His body could have taken it if he was a hard heroin user, but his reaction to it was almost fatal. He had never used that much before, I've seen some heroin users take several hundred milligrams and not react like he did. But he was obviously abusing it and being a bit stupid by taking far more than he was used to or he was doing it deliberately."

JJ turned to the doctor, "do you think that it was a suicide attempt?"

The doctor sighed, "I would say so. But I don't know for definite, all I can tell is that he took a very large dose of the drug and almost died as a result. You can always try asking him, but he was fairly stubborn when I attempted asking him questions."

"Who wants to go and see him first?" JJ asked.

"Morgan and Garcia should go, they are the two that found him." Prentiss told the team.

* * *

"Reid," Garcia said softly, "are you feeling any better?"

Reid looked up and shook his head gently, "no."

Morgan stood beside Reid's hospital bed, "was the overdose deliberate?"

Reid looked up at Morgan and gritted his teeth, "why would you think that?" He replied coldly.

Morgan began to pace around the room, "you took a fatal dosage! For a genius you should know that a dose that size can kill you. Unless you took it to kill yourself, if so you're being unfair - even if you did don't we a deserve a note as to why you would want to end you life so horribly?"

Reid thought about it, did he really want to tell them that he deliberately overdosed? Maybe then they would leave him alone, but they would send him to rehab straight away. Reid didn't want that, he never wanted that; but if he refused it then he would just spiral downwards even further. The BAU wouldn't even try to help him, after abusing their favours like that he wouldn't even be surprised. Gideon left. What makes Reid think that the others won't leave him too, leave him to die in his own self pity. Leave him to jump off a bridge, or crash his car, or take an even larger dosage - so nobody would be able to save him. He would already be gone.

"Fine Morgan." Reid exclaimed, "you want the truth? Fine you can fucking have it! I did purposely overdose, I wanted to and why couldn't you and Garcia leave me?"

"Reid," Garcia started, "we were trying to help you."

"Help me." Reid scoffed, "if you really wanted to help me you would have fucking left me! Why couldn't you just stop checking up on me? I wanted to die. I have nothing left. It's all gone, if you really cared about me why didn't you let me die? I wanted to and it was the one thing I had made up my mind on."

Morgan whispered to Garcia, "maybe you might want to go out of the room while I talk with Reid. I'll let you know when I'm done."

Garcia exited the room while the atmosphere got more tense by the moment. "Why did you do it Reid?"

Reid scowled at Morgan, filling up with anger the more he thought about it. "I hate my life." He mumbled, barely audible.

"You hate what?"

"My life! Why can't you see that I'm an emotional wreck? I can't go twenty four hours without having some kind of heavy drug in my system; I am constantly depressed, I can't think straight, I'm paranoid and anxious, everything annoys me. I wanted to end it all. When I pressed down on the plunger I felt free, for the first time in months I actually released myself from the world and left my life behind me."

"Reid we can help_"

"I don't want help! I don't want to spend weeks in pain because I need to get off using heroin. I like using heroin - it helps with the pain and stress I face all the time."

Morgan stared in disbelief, did Dr. Spencer Reid actually just say that he liked taking drugs? Somebody who knows the statistics and dangers of taking a drug like heroin - also known as the worst drug possible. Spencer Reid knew what it could do to him, but why did he continue to abuse its power?

"Reid, you don't even use heroin anymore you abuse it. Why can't you just accept that you can't get better if you don't try?"

"I don't want to try. I want it to end, I want the pain to go away and suicide seemed like the only option."

"It wasn't_"

"Get out." Reid spat.

"What?"

Reid began to shout, "I said leave me alone Morgan! Just go away, stop telling me what I want and don't want. Go to the rest of the team, I don't want to see anyone else."

Not wanting to argue, Derek Morgan stormed out of the hospital room, making sure to slam the door extra hard on his way out.

Meanwhile, Spencer Reid - despite everything - didn't like the silence. It was lonely, but gave him time to think as he quietly cried to himself.


	4. Spencer Reid's Nightmare

**Hello readers, I decided to post a chapter based on Reid's nightmare. The synopsis was written by Love Of Blood and I really liked it, so created it into this chapter. :)**

**Please read and review. :)**

**Tomorrow is the Angels premiere and if Reid dies I will never forgive CBS. **

* * *

_Spencer Reid walked fearfully through his dimly lit, eery apartment. Jumping out of his skin every time he heard a sudden noise or loud bang that echoed through the empty rooms; piercing his eardrums and lingering in his skull. He blinked twice and then stared morosely at the people who had some historical significance in his life, both good and bad impacts._

_Trying to focus, he failed. The room was spinning rapidly, making him feel dizzy. Far too dizzy. But he knew the feeling well. Spencer Reid attempted to lift his arm, but it was weighed down to the floor; syringes, fifteen small syringes imapling his veins and sticking out of the arm he couldn't lift - a metaphorical way of explaining that it was the addiction to heroin that was pulling him to the floor._

_Slowly falling to his knees, the syringes were gone. Spencer Reid clasped his head in his hands as he felt his brain pound against his skull, "stop it!" He yelled in agony, "fucking stop it!" His voice lingered in the atmosphere, making mockery of him. Just like his 'high-school buddies' taunted him every day._

_"Alexa Lisbon wants to meet you behind the field house," Harper Hillman laughed sarcastically._

_One of the douchebag members of the football team pointed at him horribly, "the moron actually came!"_

_Spencer Reid hated the memory, he would consider sticking his finger in a plug socket if it could be erased permanently from his mind, he slowly began approahing his tormentors as they faded away. Because of course: they were a nasty memory that could appear gone, but is always there. Silently torturing him._

_"I'm glad I left." William Reid spat, "you're a disgrace. I couldn't have you shaming me like you have your mother."_

_"I'm sorry_"_

_Diana laughed as she appeared next to William, "you should be ashamed. We don't need you, nobody does."_

_"Mom I_"_

_He tried to explain, he really wanted to. But before he even got a chance Hotch kicked Reid to the floor, "trying to play perfect son? You have cursed the BAU. Why didn't you try to get better?" Hotch shouted while throwing violent kicks at Reid, "it's not that hard_" Hotch stamped aggressively on Reid's chest, "a dalmatian could do it!"_

_Hotch gently faded away, just like the others. Reid was relieved that he was stopped being beaten up, but then he began to vigorously convulse. Looking desperately at the surroundings, he was in the shed... again._

_"I haven't done anything." He spluttered in innocent nature, trying to be convincing._

_Tobias Hankel stood over him intimidatingly, scowling at the myriad of track marks scattered on Reid's weakened arm. "Pityful! Worse than my son." _

_"I'm sorry," Spencer Reid sobbed while wearily pulling himself off the hard, splinter ridden floor. "Please forgive me, I'll do anything. I swear."_

_The setting changed, he was back in his apartment. Eyes on him. He was the focus._

_"Let's go," a young boy said as he pulled on Spencer's arm._

_"Henry not now_" he said impatiently, before realising that the young boy wasn't Henry... it was him. Spencer Reid gulped, the last thing he wanted was more surpressed horrifying childhood memories rising to the surface. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reopening them he realised that he was in the science museum. A place that he loved the most as a kid._

_"Mercury!" The young Spencer said while pointing at the replica of the planet, "did you know that a year on Mercury is just 88 days? And that it is the closest planet to the sun?"_

_"Yes," he smirked, "I do know that."_

_Younger Spencer carried on, "due to its proximity it can not easily be seen. Only during a twilight."_

_Spencer Reid wasn't listening, he was staring at a bench. A ready prepared lethal dosage of heroin was sat there; waiting for him to abuse it._

_"Mercurys equatorial diameter is about 4789 kilometres long_"_

_"And the equatorial circumference is 15,329 kilometres." Spencer Reid distracted his younger form, encapsulated by the heroin waiting for him to take it._

_Spencer Reid unbuckled his belt, pulled it from the hooks attached to his jeans and tightly tied it around his upper arm, making a fist in an emotional attempt to raise one of his aqueous coloured veins; in a careless and death-defying manner he stabbed the needle, puncturing his vein - blood pouring from the wound. He pushed the plunger, waiting to die._

_"Is this what I become?" The younger Spencer asked himself as he watched his bright future die away with Spencer Reid's shameful body._

* * *

_"Doctor Reid." Erin Strauss said firmly, she was sat at Spencer Reid's wooden table. Looking disgustedly at his presence._

_"Yes, yes ma'am" he stuttered._

_"I want to talk to you," she turned her head behind her. "We want to talk to you."_

_The other members of the BAU entered from the door behind Strauss, looking at him completely zombified._

_Strauss put a rubber tourniquet, syringe, bag of heroin, bent metal spoon and citric acid on the left hand side of the table. She then placed Reid's gun and credentials on the right hand side. "Spencer Reid, you have two choices: the drugs or your job back... what will it be?"_

_Strauss tapped her fingers on the table as she waited for an answer, in perfect timing with the clock. Reminding Spencer Reid that his time was running out. "Uh, can I have more time?"_

_"Now Reid!" Morgan shouted from behind Strauss._

_Dr. Spencer Reid began breathing heavily, he couldn't concentrate on what he was doing or what he was thinking; falling to the floor in excruciating pain, the withdrawal symptoms finally catching up to him. Nausea waving over as he pushed his hands down hard on the floor, trying to regain his balance, the dizziness and sickness bludgeoning the back of his head. Spencer threw up whatever he had eaten, which wasn't much. All that he ever spent his time doing was getting high, whenever he ate anything he couldn't keep it down for over an hour - it certainly explained the weight loss he suffered._

_"Two more minutes," Strauss taunted as she gave off a sinister smile, all seven smiling sadistically as Spencer Reid battle the intense pain he was suffering._

_"Go the fuck away!" His head began to spin, eyes rapidly moving while sweat began to pour down his face, his shirt stuck to his skin as he tried so hard to cool himself down. It felt like the Nevada desert in the middle of July in his apartment. Spencer Reid tried to wipe the sweat from his forehead; the headache, the headache had returned to sidetrack him again. As he murmured in authentic, agonising pain. Pain he wished would end._

_"Have you made up your mind Spence?" The members said in scripted unison. "Time is running out, make up your mind before you're lost forever."_

_"Fine!" Spencer groaned, "I fucking choose the heroin! Please just make the pain stop, I can't take it anymore."_

_The smiles were wiped off their faces, Gideon entered the room and kicked the wreckage of Dr. Spencer Reid. "Wrong answer." He said coldly._

_Soon after, everything faded away. He was left in a white room, isolated from everything and everyone. Truly alone - originally what he had wanted; but this made him more careful of what he wished for._


	5. And I'm Contemplating Suicide

Spencer Reid screamed in terror as the nightmare clouded his brain, making him unable to differentiate between reality and fantasy. The nurses held him back as his doctor tried so hard to calm him down, which often resorted to more medication - obviously wasn't helping him overcome an opiate addiction.

It had been thirty six hours since he deliberately overdosed, the hospital surroundings were getting too repetitive and boring for him; he just wanted to go home. Once he knew that the nurses and doctor was gone he willingly pulled himself from the hospital bed, grabbing his clothes and quickly putting them on.

"Damn it!" Reid muttered to himself as he almost reached the top few buttons on his shirt, the paramedics must have pulled a button off when they were about to put the electrodes on his chest. _They only saved my life, _Reid argued with himself, _well they could have at least been more cautious with my clothing... and besides, the suicide attempt wasn't meant to fail - I didn't want to be saved. _Reid buttoned the rest of his shirt and slipped on his black converse high tops, begrudgingly tying up the laces.

Once Reid was outside the hospital entrance, the thought occurred to him that he came in an ambulance; he had no car and the other BAU members would force him back into the hospital whether he liked it or not. So he got a taxi to his apartment, taking a bus or train would have been too overwhelming for him, add to the fact that he wasn't feeling great because of the withdrawal symptoms. Spencer feared that sickness would kick in if he took public transportation.

* * *

Fumbling around with his keys to unlock the door, he slid the key into the lock and turned, yanking the key out as he rushed to get through the door; slamming it behind him and throwing the keys onto the table. Spencer Reid raced to the bathroom, he threw up everything he had consumed in the past thirty six hours. After he was almost certain that he was finished, Reid tiredly wiped his mouth and leaned against the bathroom door in exhaustion and pain... too much pain.

Spencer Reid prepared a clean set of clothes to wear, after taking a shower he drowsily put the clothes on, giving a sigh of relief when there was no button missing on the new shirt as he buttoned it up.

When the genius first entered his apartment he didn't realise that his apartment was actually tidy, it was consistently untidy for over a month. It was only until that he took the time to look around, but he certainly didn't leave it like that; somebody had cleaned it.

"Fuck!" He cursed as the realisation hit him, it only meant that maybe they found his drugs, he needed to find them as fast as possible... if they were even there.

Spencer needed them, not since he tried to get ove Dilaudid had he ever been in so much pain; it would only get worse (virtually unbearable) before it got to the other side of the spectrum, the 'recovery' side.

Normally Reid would keep the actual heroin inside his sock drawer, but when he overdosed the drawer was out of place and on the floor - whoever cleaned his apartment put the drawer back. Spencer Reid drastically pulled open the drawer, "god damn it," he whispered while gritting his teeth. The socks were all paired together and neat, pulling the socks from one another and trying to find a stray nugget - something he could use, at least recreationally this time.

No luck at all, "fuck," Reid yelled as he kicked the drawer across the floor. "Why couldn't they just leave me the hell alone?"

Reid thought of the first place he used to keep his Dilaudid stash, if he got lucky, real lucky, he might find a vial. With that: he pulled the bookcase over, sending about eighty of his books scattering across half the floor area of his living room. The was no vial he could use, but a small piece of white paper was sent fluttering to the ground, even though Reid knew what it was he immediately snatched it from the floor, crying as he looked at the words inked on the paper.

_Dear Spencer,_

_I am sorry. Words cannot describe the awful feeling I have whilst writing this letter to you. I just can't take it anymore, people are going to keep dying and keep suffering and it is infinite; the death and destruction going on my life is too high. What happened to you in Georgia was an undeniable tragedy. But you didn't have to carry on abusing the Dilaudid, you had a choice. After you were taken yesterday I couldn't handle seeing you like that again, would you be using dilaudid, heroin, or both? I really could picture you deliberately harming yourself, or attempting suicide and I didn't want to the the one to find you. I would end up blaming myself for the remainder of my days, I could never forgive myself._

_I wish I had more words to give you more of an understanding as to why I am leaving you, Spencer, I really do hope you make the right choice this time._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Jason Gideon._

"And this shit was supposed to solve all of my problems?" Reid yelled as he violently tore up the paper, crying as he thought about the reason why Gideon left. From the evidence received in the letter: it was all his fault, Gideon couldn't handle him and he was totally out of anyone's control. Gideon considered him a son, and even he gave up eventually.

Reid fell to his knees in despair, sobbing into the floor. His life was ruined, the addiction destroyed everything he had; he hadn't wrote to his mother in months because he didn't want to lie to her, and he didn't want to tell her the truth. He was just beginning to realise what he had become, over a month he had been ignorant to the fact that the drugs were the source of his pain and suffering. For a long time he had managed to convince himself that they relieved him from it, never that they were the cause of everything going wrong in his life.

Reid turned his head towards the clock, 10:31 am, spontaneously swiping it from its position on his bedside table. "He still technically had two days left in hospital, now he feared that one of the BAU members would come to check up on him as usual.

For ten minutes he stared lifelessly at his reflection in the mirror, key pointing in his head where his life went wrong and how he didn't bother to pick up the pieces of the shattered remains. Why was life so unfair to him?

Reid was right about someone checking up on him, his eyes widened in frustration as he heard a loud, impatient on the door. " Son of a bitch," he swore whilst drowsily walking to answer it.

"What is it Mor_" Reid stopped and went into a state of embarrassment when he saw who it was. "Mister Rossi, what are you doing here?" Reid was obviously confused, he had never even spoke to the man and now he was knocking on his apartment door.

"Doctor Reid," he began, "I hope you don't answer the door like that to all of your guests." Rossi walked past Reid and stopped in the centre of the room, looking around at the mess Reid made in the living room.

"I've-I've been_ rearranging my furniture." Reid said as he looked at the turned over bookshelf and torn up paper scattered across the floor.

"Doctor Reid_"

"Please, call me Spencer." He insisted.

Rossi looked Spencer Reid dead in the eye, "I understand that you've not be well recently." He analysed Reid's body language and facial expressions, the young genius clearly got upset and felt uncomfortable talking about it. "I just wanted to say that it might be easier talking to me about it than your team members who you've known a long time."

Reid sighed, "all do respect Mister Rossi, but I don't want to talk about it at all. No offence or anything but I have my own way of dealing with things and talking about it doesn't really fit it." He snapped.

Rossi continued to look him in the eye, "no, maybe it doesn't. But shooting up with heroin helps you forget. Even though it is destroying you in the long term." He replied spitefully.

Spencer Reid gritted his teeth, "get the fuck out of my apartment."

Just as Rossi was about to walk through the door, he stopped to look at the former agent, "I hope you make the right choice Spencer."

As soon as he knew Rossi was gone, Spencer Reid got out as pen and paper; he hated the thought, but he was doing what Gideon did to him. Quickly thinking of what to say, he began scribbling down words on a piece of paper.

_To whoever finds this note first,_

_I am going to start off with a sincere apology to all of the pain I have caused, I know I say sorry a lot but this time I actually mean it._

_I cannot take my life anymore, it would have been far simpler if I was left to die of an overdose. The EMTs were simply wasting their time saving me, I am not grateful for it._

_I don't understand anymore, I can't control my thoughts or my emotions. They are all about heroin, it's the one and only thing I desire; I need it more than anything else. Please don't take this the wrong way, I would hate for you to blame yourself for my death. It is the addiction that has killed me, it is too great for me to handle and my fate has been inevitable since the moment I was punched to the ground in the cornfield._

_I'm probably a long way from here by the time you finish reading this. Hopefully my attempt will be successful this time._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Spencer Reid._


	6. Give In To Me

Spencer Reid hesitantly walked through Bennington Sanitarium; spotting his mother by the window, he immediately approached her. "Mom_"

Diana turned around and lifted her head from the book she had been reading, "Spencer," she began; "you never told me you were coming."

Spencer Reid almost protectively covered the track marks underneath his long sleeves, "I'm sorry."

Diana shook her head, "for goodness sake Spencer, sit down because you look as if you're going to pass out." And she wasn't wrong, despite him managing to keep up with his regular work appearance (which was mainly due to three years of constant routine), the colour had been drained from his face, he had considerably dark circles around his eyes; he had also lost weight since she saw him last.

He sat in the chair, not wanting to look rude. Lightly drumming his fingers on the sides of the chair. "I'm sorry I didn't send you any letters in the two Months past, I've had a lot going on." He admitted with regret in his tone of voice.

"Spencer, I have been worried sick. Can you please explain to me what was so important that you would just block out_"

"I'm addicted to heroin, okay?" He said quickly. "That's the truth."

She looked in shock at her only son, wondering why he would go down such an awful route. "Why would you turn to a drug like that?"

Spencer Reid sighed, "it wasn't my fault_"

"Well would you mind explaining why you would consensually hurt yourself by infecting your bloodstream and your mind with that substance?"

"It wasn't consensual... not at first anyway, you know I wouldn't do that deliberately." He took a deep breath, actually willing to explain what happened with Tobias and the events following. "We had a case in Georgia, a rich couple were murdered and the killer called the police from the house shortly before. Videos of the murder were posted online, where people were mistaking it for a new horror movie or something fake and scripted. We had summed up that there were three people involved and the murders had strong religious overtones from evidence left at the crime scene, when another video was posted online the sheriff recognised the dogs used. Me and JJ went to see the owner, he denied our entry_"

Diana looked at him, detecting that he was uncomfortable speaking about his ordeal, "Spencer you don't have to relive it just so I know."

He got his breath back, ignoring his mother. "I looked around the corner of the house and saw that he had a tech room like Garcia's, he saw me and began to run into the cornfield at the back of the house. I foolishly decided that me and JJ should split up, so she covered the front and I ran around the back and into the cornfield."

"What happened next?"

"I heard JJ scream so I called her name, he heard and hit me around the face. The next thing I knew I was on the ground with my own gun pointing at me, it wasn't three unsubs at all, it was just one; he had dissociative identity disorder. I got hit around the head for a second time and the next thing I knew I was handcuffed in a shed."

"Oh, Spencer..."

"No mom, I want to tell you." He admitted, "I've bottled up my emotions for too long and I need to tell someone. For two days Tobias' alternative personalities: his father Charles and the archangel Raphael physically hurt me, Charles wanted to beat me and Raphael wanted to kill me in God's will. Tobias' real personality wanted to help me and drugging me with a synthetic heroin called dilaudid." Spencer Reid shook his head, "I recall being drugged three times, it, it might have been four_" Spencer's voice cracked as tears fell down his cheeks, "I can't fucking remember! But it got me addicted." He continued, unable to contain the deep and noticeable level of shame that pulled him to the ground time and time again. "Finally the team found me, I had shot Tobias and I was freezing cold in the middle of a graveyard. I was about to be taken to the car but I lied to Gideon."

"What did you lie about?"

He hesitated for a moment, wondering about how she would react, "you promise you won't be mad?"

"I promise."

Spencer gave a long sigh, "I told him that I wanted another moment with Tobias, what I r-really wanted was to get the vials out of his pocket."

Diana stared at him for a few seconds, it didn't fit him at all. He hardly drunk alcohol, he had never even tried a cigarette, but there he was consensually pushing needles through his veins; "why Spencer?"

"Because I needed them!" He snapped, immediately regretting it. "I'm sorry, it's really odd for me to open up my feelings because they've been enclosed for such a long time." Spencer looked at his mother, she deserved the truth more than anything else. "I abused the dilaudid until I was finally fired, it all got a whole lot worse so I quit using. Things got bad again, however, and Gideon left; so I began to use drugs for a second time, but not dilaudid... heroin." He wiped a tear from his eye, pulling up the long sleeves of his cardiagan. "There is too many and I can't take the addiction anymore."

"Spencer, you have to get over this. Just enter a rehab programme, that will sort it out."

Spencer Reid got up from his chair and handed his mother a bunch of letters, "I wrote these a while back but I made up a lot that is on there because I didn't want you to know that I am a moron and a junkie. Please bring yourself to forgive me... but I wouldn't blame you if you don't."

He made his way from the sanitarium as Diana began to read the many letters he gave her.

* * *

Spencer Reid wandered aimlessly around the streets he knew so well, smiling at the shops and arcades he would visit as a kid. Remembering a time when drugs wasn't the dictator of his life. _When his life had some sense of direction._

He reluctantly rolled his eyes as he heard his phone go off, grabbing it from his pocket and looking at the caller ID, "Morgan, what the fuck does he want?" Reid asked himself while answering the phone, "what the fuck is it?"

"Reid you really are being selfish. Just come back and we can get you some help_"

"Help? No Morgan, you need help because you seem to be overly attached to me? Have you ever heard of this thing, oh, what's it called... FUCKING PERSONAL SPACE? Because you seem to be invading mine to the point of insanity. Everything I say or do has to be carefully analysed to make sure that I'm not suicidal, or slitting my wrists, or purposely taking detours across bridges to see if it would be 'my type of suicide'. Just leave me the hell alone Morgan, I have told you this a countless amount of times: I don't want or need you or your help, don't speak to me again." Reid angrily threw his phone on the floor and began to stamp on it repeatedly, as if his failures was all its fault.

Reid thought about it for a second. He wanted to die? Yes. Would he overdose again? He didn't actually want to, he wanted to take some heroin shortly before he killed himself. To have about thirty minutes of bliss and freedom before he was finally gone forever.

He remembered a place he passed every day when he walked to school. It was rowdy and loud music was always beating against his eardrums; the popular kids at school would talk about how it was a huge drug den, they would also place bets on how long their friends could stay there overnight. For less than a second he racked his brain, visualising where he needed to go.

* * *

Spencer Reid walked slowly and steadily, dodging the bodies passed out from the drugs they had consumed; he looked for someone, an authority figure who could tell him where a heroin dealer resides. But wait, no, he was fooling himself. It was a drug den for Christ sakes! The owner of the apartment was probably renting it to junkies because they are one them self, to get money to buy more drugs.

'Well they must be getting it from somewhere,' he thought to himself. Reid looked for someone with a heroin addiction, anyone, he needed to find a dealer. Spotting a brunette woman preparing a dosage, he approached and asked her who and where her dealer was.

"Where'd you buy that heroin?"

She looked up, scowling at him, "are you a cop?"

Reid shook his head, "no, I just don't know where to find any dealers." He rolled up his sleeves; "look, I've been using for a while."

"Round the back of this place there's an alleyway. My dealer always paces up and down there."

Reid smiled gratefully, "thanks."

* * *

The alleyway was dark, almost a dark grey fog of all the lost souls that visited it. Spencer Reid anxiously paced through the narrow pavement carelessly enclosed by two lines of fencing - riddled with neglect.

The dealer was pacing, like the girl said, up and down the midst of the alley. Spotting Spencer a smirk arose on his face. "Who are you?"

Reid cleared his throat, "I'm here to buy some heroin."

The dealer rolled his eyes, "don't say it so fucking loud!" He grabbed Spencer's arm, pulling him away from where people were 'supposed' to walk, "I can give you two bags for fifty dollars."

"Why so cheap?"

"Why? I can raise the price if you want." He said sarcastically, but Spencer was worried that he was being deadly serious.

"No-no, I'll take them." He stuttered.

The man gave Spencer two small boxes; both equipped with a bag of heroin, syringe and lighter. "The sets I normally buy don't have a lighter_"

"The manufacturer is very generous, you'll need a spoon and something acidic, citric acid?"

Spencer nodded his head, "I use that anyway."

* * *

Dr. Spencer Reid had rented out a motel room for two days, not that he would actually last that long.

He was happy that in five minutes he would be in a world that didn't matter, it would all be clotted at the back of his mind. But then as soon as he came down from the high screwed up mess of a life would swing around and hit him yet again, suicide was the one and only way out.

Sitting beside the old bed the motel provided for him, he cried silently as he prepared his last proper dosage of heroin. Trying so hard to not think about his mother; how ashamed and upset she would be when she found out that Spencer Reid, her son, the genius had killed himself to prevent going to rehab and getting away from narcotics properly.

Sliding the needle through his pale skin and the thick vein coating, he quickly hit the plunger. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, as if he had no pupils; Spencer Reid's long and thick, chestnut-brown hair resting against the thin sheets covering the bed. He let the high take him away, release him from the inner demons that lingered around him. It was the only time they could be gone.


	7. Vegas Lights

**I only just realised that a made a mistake on Chapter 2, Reid is talking about how much rent he charges, I was supposed to write seventeen dollars but I wrote seven. Sorry about that.**

**Well, after positive feedback on C6 I decided to get C7 posted for you guys, hope you like it.**

**Plus, in an interview with TV Guide, Erica Messer said that Reid's dilaudid addiction is a season 10 possibility that they will discuss. Some of you may know that I am obsessed with his drug addiction and they should definitely bring it back. My obsession with Reid and drugs is probably why every story I've ever posted has involved his drug addiction. :)**

* * *

It had been thirty six hours. Thirty six hours since Reid snapped at Morgan on the phone. When him and Prentiss searched his apartment they looked for him, they didn't see the note in his bedroom. Garcia and JJ decided to go and see if they could find any clues as to where he had gone; Garcia had checked to see if he had any flights booked, withdrawn large sums of cash. Nothing. Not in the past three days anyway.

JJ shook her head at the multiple used syringes carelessly scattered across both the bathroom and the living room floors.

"I'll check the bedroom." Garcia told JJ. She smiled gently as a piece of paper caught her eye. Thinking that it was written to his mother. Garcia, rather intrusively unfolded the delicately creased paper, hoping to find a sweet, unfinished note that he still needed to send. But the more she read, the more wrong she realised she was.

"JJ, get in here."

JJ quickly rushed over to Garcia, not looking forward to the new information about Reid that was yet to be enlightened. "What is it?"

Garcia turned her head around to look at JJ, "I found a suicide note." Garcia's eyes filled with tears as she thought about the horror she faced the last time.

JJ snatched the letter from the bed, emotionally reading it through as it tried to sink in. "Why would he do this?" She asked Garcia, "how could he be so fucking selfish? We care about him! He can get help, but he's too stubborn and too damn lazy to even try." JJ wiped her eyes, "what would his mother think? She would be devastated."

Garcia got out her phone, "I'm calling Morgan."

* * *

Reid lay pitifully on the worn down, ash covered carpet. He glared at the small beam of light entering through the deep red curtains, thinking about how and where he wanted to die.

Steadily lifting himself from the floor, the nausea in itself was killing him; any movement resulted in almost throwing up. But wait, he bought two bags of heroin, didn't he? Surely he could spare another dose before his time was finally up.

"The bridge," he muttered to himself.

* * *

"What is going on?" Morgan asked as he stormed towards his team mates.

"Spence is going to commit suicide." JJ spluttered, grimacing as the thought blocked out everything else.

At first Morgan just stared in shock, before spontaneously kicking the wall, "god damn it Reid!" He yelled.

"We don't know where he is," Garcia cried, "he's just gone and we can't do a thing about it."

"Garcia, I want you to find Gideon. I don't care where he is, but Reid blames that son of a bitch more than anyone else."

* * *

The dark motel room was mostly quiet, the only noise coming from it was the silent sobs and pointless apologies escaping from the wreckage of Dr. Spencer Reid while he pushed down the plunger. His last moment of happiness and clarity.

Resorted to nothing. Absolutely nothing. Spencer had always been outstanding to anyone who met him, and now a junkie, another junkie who will do anything and everything to get more of the drug. Addiction is the gift that keeps on giving after all. A bunch of chemicals; 'C21H23NO5, or is it C23H21NO5?' Spencer Reid had frequently asked himself, not even remembering the chemical equation. He didn't care what it was, he just wanted more and more of it. Suicide as it seemed: was the only way to break the vicious cycle.

* * *

"I've found him!" Garcia yelled, "he lives under a new name of Brandon Green in Milwaukee."

"That's great Baby Girl." Morgan complimented, "do you have his address and phone number?"

"On the screen right now."

* * *

_"Hey kid," the skilled BAU profiler Jason Gideon shouted._

_Spencer Reid turned around, realising that Jason Gideon, THE Jason Gideon wanted to speak with him personally. "Who, me?"_

_He finally caught up with Spencer, who at the time looked like any other awkward, skinny kid. "I was impressed by some of the questions you asked and the answers you gave. You are an intelligent young man."_

_From the poor results bye scored in the physical FBI tests, he hasn't expected to get into the bureau. Maybe if Gideon liked him that much he might get into the FBI, "thank you Mr Gideon."_

_"I'm actually considering, if the superiors allow, to let you into my unit with early admission."_

_"Seriously?"_

_"Yes kid, Spencer right?"_

_Spencer nodded his head, eyes lit up with hope and direction. Jason Gideon handed him a business card, "here's my card, call me if you need anything."_

* * *

"This is Brandon Green."

"Quit the act Gideon," Morgan said abruptly, "and don't even try hanging up on me because I have something really important to tell you."

Gideon deeply sighed, "what is it Morgan?"

Morgan raised his eyebrows, "sorry if I'm boring you, but you know that young genius, the one you used to mentor?"

"Reid."

"Well, when you left he deteriorated, he attempted suicide a few days ago and he's gone missing and going to try it again. Maybe he's already done it now. So would you please come and help us?"

"He'll be in Vegas, he couldn't just leave his mother behind with no explanation. He felt obliged to tell her the truth, he also told me one day about a bridge; this bridge he would stand over and think about killing himself because the bullies at his high school made him so upset and angry. It still hurts him to think about it, because the only thing that stopped him from jumping was the fact that he had to look after his mother. He couldn't just leave her."

"When did he tell you that?"

"On his first week in the BAU. He felt that he couldn't be in the unit because he wasn't strong physically, he was too young, too antisocial. He told me what they did to him as he cried, Spencer looked up to me. I was his role model, so as I wiped the tears from his eyes as he told me that he stood over the bridge twenty two times when he was just twelve, going in determined to jump and he would walk away every time because couldn't jump. Even though he wanted it more than anything." Gideon confessed.

"So," Morgan continued, "are you telling me he's not going to jump?"

Gideon shook his head, "no Morgan, I'm telling you that he is. He isn't obligated to care for his mother, he's made amends and now he feels that he can in fact commit suicide because he's crossed those jobs off of his list."

"Did he tell you the name of the bridge?"

"No, but I'm on my way to talk him out of it."

* * *

Jason Gideon paced quickly towards Garcia's office, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

"Gideon?" Garcia asked when she saw his face, "I'm guessing that you're here to find Reid."

"Garcia, just pull up where Reid lived in the year 1994, from that address look at bridges close by."

Garcia began to search, with certainty to find what she was looking for. "There is two bridges within half a mile from where Reid lived. One which he could walk directly across to get to his high school, the bridge going across S Las Vegas Boulevard."

* * *

_"Don't worry, you'll get used to this." Jason Gideon reassured an exhausted Spencer Reid, who hadn't realised that he would have to wake up at three in the morning for a case; Spencer had deeply regretted watching all of those Doctor Who episodes, as a result he only got forty seven minutes sleep._

_Gideon handed him a cup of coffee, not forgetting to bring a small bowl of sugar, but Spencer just pouring the entire bowl in. Stirring the sweet, soluble sugar while yawning in tiredness, "thanks."_

_"That one fluid will become your best friend, and maybe your worst enemy. So don't get too addicted to it."_

* * *

Spencer remembered that day, that whole conversation. And Gideon was worried about him becoming a caffeine addict, laughing at the irony, saddened in a way. He wished that it was just caffeine he was addicted to, at least his life would be a hell of a lot easier.

But it wasn't caffeine, it was heroin. Heroin. Widely considered as the worst drug, a smart person like Reid addicted, stupid enough to let the addiction strengthen.

* * *

"The superiors are not allowing us to use the jet." Hotch informed, "so I'm going to send two people to check up on Reid. Gideon and Morgan."

* * *

Gideon had only ever drove his car places, other than the BAU jet, he very rarely used air transportation. The plane was crowded, he was practically squashed up against Morgan and the sound of babies crying, children arguing and adults shouting was getting son his nerves.

"What if we get there and he's already dead?" Morgan asked, sorrow embedded in his tone of voice.

"Hopefully he won't be dead_"

"Don't fool yourself Gideon! Reid has been suicidal for a long time, when you left he used heroin again and again and again because he felt that something was wrong with him. Do you know how many times he told me that he wasn't even worth it?" Morgan told Gideon, "Reid is insecure, he always has been. His father left him, Elle left him, and then you left him. That ultimately destroyed him." Morgan looked directly at Gideon, "you will have to perform something pretty fucking miraculous to save him. If he isn't already dead of course."

* * *

Standing on the ledge of the bridge, the sky pitch black but the Vegas lights shining beautifully in his presence; Spencer Reid let the wind drift his hair to one side, the fact that he was in full view but nobody seemed to notice him is what hurt the most.

"Here's to twenty five years of fucking nothing." He murmured bitterly. Gently closing his eyelids, letting the cold wind make him shiver.

"Reid, no, wait!" Morgan ordered as he sprinted over to his friend.

"Spencer, please get off the ledge." Gideon asked kindly.

Tilting his head slightly, Spencer Reid gritted his teeth at the thought of Jason Gideon. He hated thinking about the man. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I'm sorry Spencer, I should have helped you and never abandoned you. You are sick Spencer, you need help and it's not healthy for you to keep living like this."

"Well it won't fucking matter once I've jumped, will it?"

"Reid, just get off the ledge and we can get you away from drugs, maybe even back into the FBI." Morgan negotiated, "if you die just think about how many lives you will destroy."

Reid thought about it, climbing back over the barrier as he scowled at his two 'friends', Gideon walked over and lifted his arm over Reid; only to cause more trouble.

"Don't touch me!" Reid shouted, "don't fucking touch me!'

" Reid I_"

"Fuck you Gideon, you left me! You fucking left me!" Reid wiped the tears away, "I never deserved this, why can't you just leave me alone because you made it crystal fucking clear that you don't give a damn about me!"

"Reid," Morgan sighed.

"I don't want to hear it! Couldn't both of you just leave me alone? I wanted to die, I still want to." Reid's voice went from hysterical and frustrated to hoarse and quiet, "I can't fucking live anymore."


	8. Picking up the Pieces?

Six Months Later...

'SSA Spencer Reid, or SSA Dr. Spencer Reid'. He thought to himself while looking proudly at the gun and badge he held in his hands; it had been six agonising months of being placed in an inpatient facilility, but he pulled through and eventually got his profiling job back. Gideon and him had made amends, Gideon moved back into Virginia where he could keep an eye on Spencer. Spencer Reid had managed to finally pick himself up from his lowest point and pull the shattered remains back together.

_Shaking violently, he slid the needle into his thick, pulsating vein. Small droplets of crimson red blood rolling gracefully down his pale arm._

Showering quickly, he put on his clothes. After finishing the buttons on his shirt Spencer Reid smiled as he slowly picked up his gun holster, placing it firmly on the side of his belt. He put the gun firmly inside of it while looking at himself in the mirror, the accomplishments he had made in the past few months littering his brain.

* * *

"Hey, pretty boy!" Morgan shouted from across the bullpen, it had been a while since he remembered being called 'Pretty Boy', he had actually missed the nickname a great deal.

"Hi Morgan," he replied in a friendly manor.

Spencer finally came up to Morgan's desk, it must have been a special occasion for him because he had arrived earlier. And it was Spencer's first day back.

_The intoxicating chemicals numbed his entire body, the euphoria he had wanted back for such a long time came back to him. Making him feel nothing but a happy feeling; but it would only last for a limited time, and then the harsh reality of his life would come falling down._

Prentiss and Garcia weaved through the busy bullpen, their faces lighting up at the sight of Dr. Spencer Reid, the BAU was beginning to feel whole again.

"Boy wonder!" Garcia pulled Reid into a huge hug, if she tried that six months earlier she would have had a nasty 'get the fuck off of me!' Or 'I want to be alone, can't you fucking see that?' But Spencer Reid actually liked it this time, he felt like he was worth it.

"Reid, you look much healthier." Prentiss complimented, "I'm so happy that you're better now."

Garcia pulled away from Reid, allowing him to hug Prentiss, "I'm sorry for how horribly I treated you," he apologised, "for how I treated all of you. All you wanted to do was help me and I wouldn't let you." He walked over to Morgan, "what I said to you on the phone was hurtful and I'm sorry if I upset you."

"No worries Reid, I know that you were upset and I would never hold that against you."

Reid smiled sweetly at his colleagues, before questioning why one was missing. "Where's JJ?"

"She has taken vacation time in New Orleans to spend it with Will La Montagne. You know the detective from the Ripper style case?"

"Yes, I remember him." Reid said, a small bit annoyed because she wasn't there for his first day back. "When will she be back?"

"On Thursday, we have a case today so hopefully we will see her on the case in a couple of days." Morgan told Reid, "cheer up Reid. You have us to support you."

_Cheeks wet from the relentless sobbing he had occupied himself by doing; what was the point? All of the hard earned progression had circled the drain, until finally coming to its inevitable fate._

* * *

"Reid, we're so glad to have you back." Hotch said, smiling at the same time.

"I'm glad to be back Hotch, Mr Rossi."

"Please, just call me Rossi." He insisted.

Hotch stood up and cleared his throat, "we currently have eight victims that have been found dumped on riversides. No patterns in appearance, age, or sex of the victims."

"There is no sign of remorse, either." Reid pointed out.

"They all had their necks snapped, but before that they were stabbed. The unsub missing major organs." Rossi read aloud.

"Wheels up in ten."

* * *

Prentiss began; "the fact that their necks were snapped may show a background in farming or butchering, however, it may be a message that the victims were nothing more than animals to them. The stabbing may imply a medical background."

"Maybe it was the unsub's way of showing that they are better than them," Morgan theorised, "one of the victims, Martin Jones was a surgeon. Harriet Rigeman was a well known psychiatrist. This shows that the unsub is narcissistic."

* * *

_Dim. The room was dim, dingy, unkempt. Painfully loud music rattled through the floorboards, as the lonely, lost soul wearily leaned against the cold wall. Nobody seemed to care. Not anymore. Not after what terrible mistakes he had made, the boy who cried wolf. The real life scenario._

"Why a riverside?" Reid asked Morgan, "why pick them up from such different areas, kill them, and then dump them next to a river?"

"I'll have Garcia check the background of the river, but it's odd how they were dumped on the side of the river and not actually in the river where all evidence and trace would be lost."

_He sat slouched over on his unmade bed, heroin equipment sunken into the soft sheets. In his hand he shakily held a bottle of whiskey, practically drowning himself in it every time he took a large sip. It burned as it slid down his throat, he hated it. But it was, in a way, helping him._

* * *

"This is a hard case to crack," Morgan sighed, "please tell me you have something doll face."

"Nothing on the victims, absolutely nothing."

"There better be a but_"

"You didn't let me finish hot chocolate." Garcia smirked, "I did some more digging and during the eighties, on the river you told me to look into, was let's call it an incident."

"What was it Garcia?" Reid interrupted.

"Jesus Reid, I forgot how much you interrupt people while they're speaking," she joked. "So during the eighties, eight people was held hostage on a boat. They were all forced to stab each other, before the man holding them captive snapped their necks."

"You are literally the best. Can you tell me anything on the victims?" Morgan asked.

Garcia typed quickly, digging deeper into the records that were normally inaccessible. "The recent victims are all relatives of the eighties victims."

"What about the person who held them hostage?"

"Still unknown, was long gone before the bodies were even found."

"Thanks mama." Morgan said before turning the phone off, "the original unsub may be the unsub we're looking for."

"Okay," Reid began, "from profiling the unsub from the eighties, I'm assuming that they are sadistic, controlling, insecure. The unsub would be a lot older now, so they may have a medical or faming background, maybe they are a butcher, or a surgeon. But it's a pretty big difference, going from having their victims torturing each other to torturing the victims them self."

_Passed out from the alcohol, lying flat out on the bed. Eyes closed peacefully, long hair draped across his forehead and hanging down over his ears. The drugs close by, reminding him every time he looked at them: the tainted clock was counting down._

* * *

"Garcia, look for anyone in the area that has been in a long time occupation of either surgery, farming, butchery. Look for anyone that has been those careers since the eighties or even before that." Reid ordered.

"Gee Reid, there might be a lot of hits that come up." Garcia stared at the screen, "fifteen hits."

"Cross reference it with any type of arrest held against them."

Garcia searched again, "nothing worse than DUIs."

It was finally time for Reid to dig through his brain, considering he hadn't used it properly in a while; "okay, so if the boat wasn't hijacked then the Unsub or a relative of the Unsub owned it. So, look if any of the fifteen names owned a boat, or had the relative as the owner during the eighties."

"Oh Reid, you couldn't be more right. One name has popped up. Dennis Hatridge, he is a surgeon, fifty six years old. He owned a boat in the eighties, got rid of it a week after the bodies were found. I'm sending you guys his address right now."

_Slowly but gradually, he opened his eyes. The dimly lit room blinded him; the alcohol was costing him to go through majorly excrutiating headache, pulling himself up and allowing the dizziness to set in, allowing the room to spin. Making him nauseous, trying so hard to prevent throwing up._

* * *

"Dennis Hatridge, FBI." Reid yelled as he spotted the older man running through his house.

"You are wanted for the murder of sixteen people," Morgan said while scowling at the man, disgusted in his presence.

Both Prentiss and Morgan grabbed him, handcuffing him, and then shoving him through the door.

"You did great kid." Rossi complimented, "you've come so far since I first met you. I'm proud."

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I even managed to fit a lyric from the Asking Alexandria song 'The Final Chapter' in there. Hope you enjoyed reading. :)**


	9. The Ideal Reality?

**Chapter 10 should be the last. I'm sorry that C8 and C9 are a little confusing, it should all make sense later though.**

**I've only just realised that in C4 Spencer says 'not now Henry', this is a huge mistake because Henry wasn't born at the time the chapter is set. Sorry about that.**

**Hope you enjoy chapter nine. :)**

* * *

_Head pounding, he stumbled through the dark room. Pain and misery seemed to follow him wherever he went; it was like he was supposed to be unhappy and leave a long trail of broken relationships as a result._

"Is JJ in her office?" Reid asked Prentiss, he still owed her an apology from the way he treated her while he was abusing heroin.

"She arrived about thirty minutes ago."

"Thanks," he said as he made his way to JJ's office. Thinking of what to say as he politely knocked on the door, pushing it open and walking in.

"JJ, I'm sorry for the way_"

"What do you want?" She asked abruptly, interrupting him as he tried to explain himself.

"I just wanted to apologise for the way I treated you a few months ago."

JJ scoffed, "sorry doesn't really cut it Reid. You were perfectly fine in thinking that we wouldn't lose sleep if you killed yourself_"

"_but."

"You didn't fucking care Reid! You let us find you completely passed out on drugs, you overdosed twice! Don't fucking tell me that you're sorry."

Reid looked down at the floor, "I am sorry, and I want to make it up to you." He said softly.

JJ rolled her eyes, "do you want to know why I never visited you while you were in rehab?" She asked.

"Why?"

JJ smirked, "because I fucking hate you;" she replied spitefully. "Now get out of my office and close the door behind you."

Completely silenced, Spencer Reid walked away, making sure to close the door behind him, or slam the door behind him. "Fucking bitch," he muttered as he approached the rest of the BAU members in the bullpen, who were staring at him in confusion.

"What was that Reid?" Prentiss asked.

Reid put on a sarcastic voice, "JJ hates me, I'm so fucking scared."

Morgan sighed, "come on Reid."

Reid raised his eyebrows, "why are you taking her side all of a sudden?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side_"

"If everyone's going to blame me for being forced addictive substances twice then I'm not speaking to anyone." He threatened.

_Blame. He refused to blame himself for the state he was in. If that cost strong relationships he had built, he didn't care. In his eyes: everyone was to blame but him._

"Reid, don't be like this." Prentiss pleaded, "JJ is upset because of the fact that you had no consideration for us, and to be fair Reid, please don't take this the wrong way, but you didn't."

Reid shook his head, unable to tolerate all of the criticism aimed at him, "I wanted to die, I'll admit to that. But I obviously cared about how you reacted, it was the last thing I thought of when I pushed the plunger; my life was out of control and suicide seemed like the only way out, it was a last resort, but the only clear thing that actually came to my head. If you were in the same position you would consider it too."

"Reid," Morgan began, "I don't blame JJ for hating you. I mean, all the pain you have caused you are lucky we are forgiving you."

"Leave me alone, I am clearly the cause of all your problems_" Reid was suddenly interrupted by a hard shove to the floor, "Morgan what the fuck was that for?"

Morgan kicked Reid repeatedly in the abdomen, "you have destroyed our friendship, my trust in you has gone! I can't look at you without seeing the ticking time bomb that you really are. You are a walking disaster," he continued to beat Reid up, despite the pleas for forgiveness. "We are just waiting for you to relapse again... because it doesn't take a genius to work out that it is inevitable!"

"Morgan, what are you doing to me?" Reid cried, unable to make out what exactly was going on.

The lights began to flicker on and off, repeating the cycle over and over again. The flashes made Spencer Reid dizzy, his colleagues were beginning to confuse him as they walked over, like clockwork. Surrealism shutting down his senses; infecting his mind, they all stared at him, looking at each other, and then back to him, one after another, intimidating and off putting.

"Just fucking stop it," he yelled, "stop being so fucking stupid!" Spencer Reid clasped his head in between his two hands, tightly closing his eyes, begging for them to stop.

_What was reality and what was nothing more than fantasy?_


	10. The Tainted Clock is Counting Down

**Thank you to all of the people that have supported this story.**

* * *

Attempting to erase the fatigue as he splashed cool water across his face. Dr. Spencer Reid had yet another horrible nightmare, they tormented him by convincing him every time he awoke that his life was back to normal, the same as it was before. But the longer he was fully conscious, the more he remembered that it was the same, sad, pitiful mess that it was when he last left it; before he whacked himself out on drugs or alcohol.

Every time he fell asleep, or knocked himself out, he had the recurring nightmare that he was back in the BAU. The way it used to be. And every time it was saddening, because for a brief moment, he would forget about all of the problems his reality brought.

Routine still caught up with him, sometimes he would even put on his old work clothes, attaching the empty gun holster, his brown satchel, and even resorted to drawing his FBI credentials onto a piece of card; he would stare longingly into the mirror, pretending it was like it used to be.

He didn't even look like a drug addict. He still looked like the old Spencer. Just a slightly thinner, paler, sicklier looking version.

It was five in the afternoon and Spencer Reid had only just woken up. He was overly tired and looked as if he was about to pass out, food didn't seem to be on his side either, for every time he ate something he would just purge it back up a little while later. Coming to think of it: nothing seemed to be on his side.

One part of the recurring dream, it turned out that he went through six months of rehab. He didn't. He went through just twelve days of rehab, before he escaped and quickly escalated back to his old ways.

He had broken almost every relationship too; JJ hated him, as did Morgan (or so he manipulated himself to believe), Gideon went back into hiding, Prentiss and him hadn't spoke in over a month, Garcia was too afraid of what he would do if she turned up to his apartment, Hotch and Rossi tried to help but eventually gave up. This was all because he wasn't going to change, even though they would have killed to know that he would change.

Suffocating in his own self loathing, Spencer Reid abused heroin and alcohol all to make the pain go away. His life had been going around in circles for almost a year, but now it was finally being sucked down the drain. Everything he knew, everything he loved had left him. The drugs brought out a beast that he himself would never have wanted to unleash, it was too late, now everyone had seen it.

To stop the intense nausea from getting the better of him, Spencer walked slowly and steadily towards his bed. He was going to try to fall asleep without any drugs or alcohol to actually induce it, distressed about how he was so clever, but had fucked up his life so much that literally everyone who had once cared greatly about him, had finally, had inevitably given up on him.

Lying flat out under the covers, Spencer Reid ran his hand through his hair as he visualised the two paths he had in front of him: one the path to recovery, the other being the path to death. He had to pick one, otherwise one would be picked for him (most likely the path of death). He stared at the ceiling, focused on the plain white that was above him. Spencer Reid compared himself to that ceiling, he was a blank canvas, he was just repeating the cycle over and over again, nothing mysterious to him anymore. He was just a junkie.

The heroin withdrawal came back like a boomerang, still lying under the covers, Spencer Reid tossed and turned to set his mind away from the heat rise he was experiencing; small droplets of sweat forming across his forehead as he felt his shirt begin to stick. Quickly, he gripped the top button, pulling it away from its tight fasten. Repeating the act with the remaining seven buttons, he pulled it away and scrunched it into an untidy ball, throwing it across the room. Spencer rolled out of the covers, landing on the cooler wooden floor. The decreased temperature feeling nice against his skin.

Pulling himself from the floor, Spencer decided to make his neighbours extremely happy by putting on extremely loud, deafening music. He grabbed an almost empty bottle of whiskey; the vile taste flowing over his tongue as he tried desperately to swallow the burning substance. Pulling the cold glass bottle away from his lips, he briefly squinted his eyes while the alcohol was settling in. He took a few more sips, hating every awful sensation he got, but getting incredibly drunk was working in the aspect of forgetting everything.

Once he was finished with the drink, Spencer resentfully hurled the empty bottle against the wall. He observed as it shattered into thousands of differently shaped pieces and fell to the unyielding ground.

Spencer Reid purposely fell to the floor, crying as he was envisioned by all that he had lost, all that he could have gained, the direction he was going in life. Wondering: what exactly was the point?

Spencer reached over for his brown satchel that was peacefully rested against the smooth, leather chair. He pulled the long strap in his direction, reaching over for the fasten, he unzipped the inside and emptied the contents: multiple books, a cheap bottle of whiskey, and heroin equipment. Scrambling to lean up against the wall; Spencer Reid rested on the smooth paint, getting some relief from the scorching temperature that lingered around him. Salty tears began to stream down his face as he picked up the bottle of whiskey, breaking the seal and unscrewing the cap; he carelessly took a large sip, the golden brown liquid dripping down his face and onto his chest, taking another, and another before finally slamming it down.

Spencer Reid shakily held the sterilised needle in front of his face, he began to prepare the dosage, not even bothering to measure it all out properly in his drunken haze, neglecting his own personal wellbeing. He wrapped the rubber tourniquet a few centimetres above his elbow, making a tight fist in an upsetting attempt to raise a vein; once the needle was in, he threw the tourniquet out of his way and sent the plunger travelling down.

* * *

Morgan and JJ walked towards the front desk of Spencer Reid's apartment building, the land lord looked frustrated as he yelled down the phone, not noticing the two agents in front of him.

"How do you think he'll respond this time?" JJ asked Morgan.

Morgan thought about it for a few moments, "well we haven't visited for a week, and maybe he's thought about what we've said and might actually be okay with us."

"I'm still mad about his escape from rehab, it would have done him so much good."

"Listen JJ, I know that we're all mad about what he did last month, but he needs all of the help he can get_"

"Are you talking about Spencer? Apartment 23." The landlord interrupted.

"Yes, we are." JJ replied.

The landlord sighed, "all he's been doing is playing loud music. I've had to deal with a bunch of complaints, he's beginning to get on my nerves."

Morgan looked at the steps leading to the apartments, "has he been out at all?"

The landlord nodded his head, "he came back last night from a bar. He was absolutely hammered, stumbling everywhere. In fact, it's been like that a few nights, he'll come back at stupid times in the morning completely drunk."

"How long has this been going on?"

"About four days, not long at all." The landlord looked directly at them both, "is he okay? This is weird behaviour, even for him."

JJ smiled shortly, "he will be."

* * *

Morgan and JJ walked timidly up the steps leading to Spencer's apartment, his behaviour had been erratic and unexpected. Loud music blared from the speaker, some loud metal song that neither Morgan or JJ had heard before. They knocked loudly on the door, no answer. Knocking again, still no answer.

"I'm gonna kick the door down."

"Morgan," JJ stopped, "maybe he just hasn't heard us knocking."

Morgan didn't listen, and with one hard kick the front door was sent swaying open. They calmly entered the dark room, looking for any sign of Dr. Spencer Reid.

_If only he knew,_

_If only he knew,_

_If only he knew._

_Just stand up and scream, the tainted clock is counting down..._

_You gave in to me, would you say the nights are far too long now?_

Morgan gently pushed Spencer Reid's bedroom door open, rushing in as soon as he caught a glimpse of his former best friend; he was leaning up against the wall in exhaustion, a needle stuck out of Spencer's arm. Laces undone on one of his converse high tops, Spencer had no shirt on and a bottle of whiskey sat nearby his morbid body. His face looked angelic, almost happy, as Morgan kneeled down next to him.

Checking for a pulse, Morgan shouted for JJ to come through. She sprinted in through the door, coming to a sudden halt to stand and stare in shock.

"Come on Reid, open your eyes!" Morgan said as he held Reid's body in his arms. "Come on pretty boy, please, just open your eyes."

JJ shook her head as she prayed for the situation to turn out okay, "don't say it Morgan, please, please don't say it." She cried, sitting down next to them, "please Spence just wake up and tell me that everything will be okay." JJ stroked his hair while Morgan kept going back and forth from Spencer's neck and wrist attempting to find a pulse in sincere desperation.

"Please Spence, just open your eyes. Tell me that you're okay."

* * *

_The End_


End file.
